


And Go Tell Everyone

by damozel



Category: The Handmaid's Tale (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Role Reversal, Canon Typical References to Rape, Canon Typical References to Violence, Friendship, Future Fic, Misses Clause Challenge, Multi, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-14 22:09:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13017162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/damozel/pseuds/damozel
Summary: As Aunts at the Red Center, June, Moira and Emily are tasked with training the next generation of handmaids.





	And Go Tell Everyone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [electrumqueen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/electrumqueen/gifts).



June made a conscious effort to lift her shoulders as the three women strode down the corridor of the newly-refurbished Red Center, a stack of freshly-printed Bibles propped beneath her chin. Emily stooped a little these days, she noticed, as the slight woman stepped out in front of her; the crow's feet around her pale eyes had grown deeper, and the furrows around her mouth leant her face a slightly pinched expression. Moira, incongruous as ever in her staid grey-brown suit, stood shoulder-to-shoulder with June, her mouth set in the determined line that had grown so familiar over the years.

"Good morning Aunt June, Aunt Moira, Aunt Emily," chorused the U-shaped formation of girls as the older women entered the room. "Praise Be to You and all who live under His eye."

"And to you," June responded, emotionless. "Sit down girls, and please straighten your hair Adelaide."

It was always a shock to June how much she frightened them. The color drained from Adelaide's face as she tucked her unruly curls behind her ears. "I've got cattle shears in my office," June added for good measure, the image of Aunt Lydia flashing across her mind's eye.

_Poor old Aunt Lydia. She would be long gone by now. She knew in her heart of hearts that the old tyrant deserved everything she got. But still._

After all these months, June could still tell the difference between the Wild Girls and the ones who trained as handmaids from childhood. Adelaide's parents ran during the early days of the First Gilead Republic and somehow survived for over a decade in the borderlands, hunting and scavenging and educating their daughter the best they could. When the military finally caught up with the family, the Eyes shot Adelaide's father dead on sight. His wife, deemed too old for childbearing, was declared Unwoman and exiled to the colonies, while Adelaide was dragged kicking and screaming to the Red Center. Sometimes, when she closed her eyes, June could still hear the girl's screams on the night she first arrived, cutting through the air like a paring knife. That was of course before the Aunts took her in hand.

"You all know what a special day this is," June continued with a broad smile, her voice robotic, her eyes glassy. "And I don't need to remind you that your Aunts have given up a lot to prepare you." She cast a sidelong glance in Moira's direction, startled, not for the first time, by the wisps of gray that had started to spring up along her hairline. Emily stared out into the distance; she was biting the corner of her lip ever so slightly, which always meant she was deep in thought. "Some of us even came back to Gilead from the outside, just to make sure our girls got the very best education. We wouldn't leave the future of our great nation to any old women, you know."

Some of the handmaids laughed at that, but most of them stared down at the floor. They had so little life left in them these days.

"Just because you're leaving us today doesn't mean we'll forget about you," Emily piped up, snapping out of her trance as she rose from her seat. Circling the room, she began to hand out oddly-shaped bundles of stiff white linen to each of the girls. "Your wings are your best weapon against the evils of the world, so wear them with pride. There's no reason to look at anything except the road right there in front of you."

"And there's no call for anyone to be looking at you," Moira interjected with a ferocious grimace.

Clemence, one of the most docile girls, had already begun to strap her wings around her face, pulling her pale blonde hair up and beaming as though it were the best day of her life. She had been a pupil at Aunt Agatha's infant school and had for the most part embraced life at the Red Center. Still, late at night, when she thought no-one was watching, a deadened look crept into her eyes. It was then that she reminded the Aunts of Janine.

"Your wings aren't your only weapon," Emily continued with a wry smile, reaching for the pile of books. "In our day, handmaids were banned from reading, but we campaigned so you get to read the Good Word whenever you want." She pressed a crisp red Bible into the hands of each of the waiting girls. "When you arrive at your new homes you'll be able to study every day."

June watched the leaving parade from the upstairs window. The girls looked liked pairs of crumpled swans as they passed out of the Red Center and into the cars of their allocated families. Or like Noah's animals, finally leaving the ark and stepping out timidly into a world that was supposed to have been washed clean. Things were so much easier in the old days, when the handmaid assignments were pretty much random. Now with all the assessments and visits and prodding and poking, it was virtually guaranteed that the senior officials had their pick of the handmaids. Of course the government, to whom most of the officials belonged, raised no objections.

***

"Sit up straight Ofgil," snapped the Wife. She had a pointed, wrinkled face and her mouth was pulled into a thin line of annoyance. "You represent the Governor's family now, just you remember that. So we are clear from the start, you can refer to me as Mrs Baker-Ford, never Lillian. We had terrible trouble with the last handmaid, so we won't be going down _that_ route again. Honestly, you girls have no idea the problems you cause. It's not like you have anything to do all day but practise lying back and opening your legs."

 _Ofgil, Ofgil, I must remember that I am Ofgil now._ Clemence was surprised at how much it bothered her, not to have her own name. She'd known for as long as she could remember that she'd never be allowed to keep it. But it still felt weird. Like removing your skin and pulling another one on straight away and everyone pretends it was always your skin in the first place.

She had always known about The Ceremony as well; the idea was as familiar to her as sleeping or breathing. But now, as she stared at the Governor's graying head bobbing up and down in the seat in front of her, her stomach flipped over and tied itself up tight. She began to anxiously finger the pages of her new Bible as Lillian turned to stare out the car window, her elbow catching the handmaid in the ribs a little too sharply. "Another whore," she muttered under her breath.

Ofgil opened her Bible to a random page and squinted down at the beginning of a new verse. It was unusual for her not to recognize the text; she always worked especially hard in Bible Study because she wanted to please the Aunts. Tracing her finger over the slightly raised type, she tried to make some sense of the strange heading:

 _Nolite te Bastardes Carborundorum._  

***

"So d'you think it's gonna work this time?" Moira flopped down on June's bed, releasing the pent up tension of the day by shaking out her limbs. She arched her spine and pushed back until it cracked. Even in middle age her frame was lean and toned.

"It's got to," was June's only response as she stared down at the dull, faded cloth of the bed linen.

"You don't know that," Moira fired back, pulling her hands into two tight fists.

Emily puckered her forehead but didn't say anything for the moment. She snaked her arm around Moira's waist, pulling her friend towards her. "The clues are all out there and the allies are in place. We've given them everything they need to succeed, but it's up to them now."

"You know I love you guys," Moira mumbled, her face pressed against Emily's shoulder. "I don't want to drag you down."

"We know," June replied, staring out the window into the bleak, black sky. "But this time it _has_ to work. We've been too indiscreet, dropped too many hints. It's our last shot."

"And it will," said Emily, her fingers grazing against June's hand which hung loosely off the edge of the bed. In all the years she had never lost her quiet fire. "It will happen because we made it happen, and if anyone I know can do it, it's the two of you."

***

It was humiliating to have to sit beside the Wife as they drove away from the Red Center; Adelaide was sure the Aunts invented new and more ridiculous rituals every year, because it wasn't as though handmaids had enough to deal with. Her vision was blocked by the ludicrous wings now attached to her head, but the cheerful-looking rotund woman in blue managed to throw her a half-smile. She was married to a low-ranking Court official who must have barely qualified for a handmaid of his own.  

"I'm Alice. I do so hope and pray that we succeed together."  

Adelaide was not surprised that the higher-status families had passed her over, but she did not smile back, instead turning her eyes down towards the book in her lap. She was not here to make friends.

Her Bible fell open at a familiar story: Rachel and Leah. But something wasn't right. She knew the verses off by heart, and someone had changed the text. She tried to distract herself, but the words danced back into her field of vision, calling out to her from off the page. Somewhere, at the bottom of her soul, she knew that it was a message meant for her:

> **M** ay your days be  
>  **A** lways driven by the guidance of His eye;  
>  **Y** our steps forever lifted by the grace of
> 
> **D** ivine assistance.  
>  **A** lways know in your heart that He is at your back.  
>  **Y** ou will be given strength, held tight, as you fight for the Truth.


End file.
